Giveaway

Woman eh entangle in touching romance,
just looking at a passerby -
everyone holds his pocket cautiously.
Funny!
From the beggars -
what to cheat with them?
How many years will, find out by now -
candidate for the fathom of the city morgue -
I
infinitely more rich,
than any Pierpont Morgan.
Through so much, so many years
- word, I will not survive -
I'll die of hunger,
I'll stand under the gun -
меня,
of today's redhead,
professors will learn to the last jot,
as,
when,
where is.
Will be
from the pulpit a big-headed idiot
grind something about god devil.
The crowd will bow,
fawning,
vain.
You don't even know -
I'm not myself:
she will paint a bald head
in the horns or in the radiance.
Each student,
before you lie down,
it
will not forget to hang over my verses.
I am a pessimist,
I know -
forever
the student will live on earth.
Listen Well:
everything, what my soul owns,
- and her riches go kill her! —
splendor,
what will decorate my step for eternity,
and my very immortality,
which, thundering for all ages,
the kneeling will gather the world veche, —
all this - you want? —
I'll give it up now

for just one word
affectionate,
human.
People!
Dust avenues, trampling rye,
go from all over the earth.
Today
in Petrograd
on Nadezhdinskaya
not for a penny
the most precious crown for sale.
For a human word -
isn't it true, cheap?
Go,
try, —
how,
find him!

[1916]

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Vladimir Mayakovsky
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